


Aftermath

by sea_level



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Genre: Character Study, F/F, F/M, Unrequited Love, ish, offscreen abuse, on Jordan's side, spousal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 00:56:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15897615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea_level/pseuds/sea_level
Summary: A small conversation between Jordan and Daisy after Tom physically hurts Daisy.





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't the kind of stuff I like to write, but I did it anyway because my mind was needling me to and I decided I might as well go through with it because it's short
> 
> Edit: haha yikes somehow the tags ended up out of order somehow inferring that Jordan was responsible for spousal abuse and that was NOT what I was intending at All YIKES

She cradles Daisy’s face in her hands, gentle because she knows that it's the rarest commodity and because she knows it's not hers to love. Tom has already claimed that honor.

Jordan rests the damp towel over the blossoming bruise on Daisy's neck, hoping the air has cooled it enough to help assuage the pain. By the morning, Daisy will have it all painted up, and no one will be able to tell that anything has happened. It's an injustice. Jordan tells her as much.

Daisy sighs and shakes her head because she's heard this argument before.

“You shouldn't let him do this,” Jordan says, peeking underneath the towel and exchanging it for a fresher, colder one.

“It makes Tom feel better,” Daisy says as it it's any sort of a justification.

“Yes,” Jordan clucks and tilts Daisy's face, looking for any other signs of injury she might have missed, “because it makes him feel better to have power over you. I should think just having you would be enough to make him happy.”

Daisy shrugs at that, a simple fluid motion meant to convey something like, “Well, you know how it is,” but in movement, not words.

“Do you get to hit him when you’re upset?” Jordan poses. This at least gets Daisy to laugh, her laughter ringing like bells in the crisp air. Jordan's heart skips a beat involuntarily. Still, her laughter is an answer in itself.

“You don't have to stay with him,” Jordan says, lightly like she doesn't mean it. She's learned to keep the desperation out of her voice.

“If I were to desire a man who would treat me right in the way you describe,” says Daisy, “I think perhaps I would be as single as you.”

Jordan feels a soft smile tug at the edges of her lips. She's never met a man who has attached himself to her heart in the same way Daisy has. There's always something missing—some kindness, some recklessness. They're never enough. With Daisy, her heart is full.

 _I could treat you better_ , she thinks, but does not say. She might not have the same kind of money or power Tom has, but she knows she could never, _never_ raise a hand against Daisy, she could never say all those derogatory things.

She says instead, “Have you heard of Hollywood?”

Daisy scoffs because everyone who hasn't been under a rock for the past few of years obviously knows of Hollywood.

“I fancy it, sometimes,” Jordan continues. “The glitz and the glamour. The chance to appear on the silver screen.”

“It's all so _new_ ,” Daisy says like it's a bad thing.

“It's hardly going to all come crashing down in a few years,” Jordan says.

“You couldn't know that,” Daisy replies.

Jordan fights an eye roll. “You and I both know that the people will never stop wanting entertainment.” There is too much of Tom in Daisy now. His disdain for the new upper class, in any kind of opulence that doesn't have roots firmly entrenched in the past and centuries worth of snobbery to back it up. Tom doesn't like Jordan for it (and despises Gatsby even more), but Daisy’s favor is enough to silence him on this matter.

Daisy says quietly, “The moving pictures _are_ awfully entertaining.”

Jordan hums her agreement. “Would you go with me, if I decided I should like to visit some time?”

Daisy is silent for a while. “I would have to ask Tom,” she says at last. “He doesn't always think the best of the west coast, but he might enjoy it.”

Jordan nods because that's how it is, isn't it? Daisy will always have to get Tom's permission before doing anything, his preferences always coming before Daisy's own. There was no compromise. The thought makes Jordan's skin itch as it always has. It's why she's avoided relationships like the plague, only chancing it when she knows a man isn't dumb enough to think she's supposed to put in her place. She's pretty sure, at this point, that there's not even a place to put her into. She's grown too used to her freedom to surrender it to anyone.

Daisy laughs, a wonderful, tinkling sound like bells on the wind as something outside the window catches her eye. She's beautiful here, even as the ugly bruise continues to blossom on her neck. The slight pull on the corners of her reddened lips reminds Jordan of a child taking in all the wonders of the world, curious, exploring, full of boundless potential.

The air smells, for a quick second, stagnant, like some old pool of water that was never mopped away, and then it's gone. It makes her long for open country roads and fast cars and one-way trips to some place new.

Jordan tears her eyes from Daisy's delicate features and forces herself to look away.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to imagine that in one or two years time they decide to run away together, and then become happy and famous in Hollywood or just settle down or something and also Tom dies of dysentery.


End file.
